


Days Gone By

by AndDownCameTheRain



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward Crush, Blood. Lots of blood., F/M, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Neglect, Night Terrors, Paranoia, Past Child Abuse, Shane Isn’t A Huge Douche, Violence, father-daughter dynamics, mentions of suicide/self harm, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 13:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndDownCameTheRain/pseuds/AndDownCameTheRain
Summary: Alma Grace wakes up the shell of the person she once was. She doesn’t remember her life before the apocalypse, nor things that happened during it. Found by Rick Grimes, she has to learn how to navigate life with the dead rising- and how to learn to adapt to the abrasive world with no memories and a disability that could very well kill her. She finds it hard to survive with no memories, a missing limb, and a sudden interest for the former sheriff’s son who has a knack for trouble.Can she survive a world that is made to take down individuals like her, or will she prove everything and everyone wrong that has written her off?





	Days Gone By

**Author's Note:**

> My story follows thirteen year old Alma, who has no memories after waking up after a horrible accident. We find out more of who she was along the way, remembering with her and seeing who she is now that she has to contend with the living dead and hostile survivors.

_ The first thing she feels is pain.  _

It starts as a pounding ache in her head and it spreads down her body in a trail of fire. It makes her hands shakes and her breathing is ragged gasps. Her chest clenches and it continues to travel down where the pain is the greatest. Her left leg writhes in pain, and the metallic smell of blood is in the air. 

A scream builds up in her throat, but something harsh and commanding in her brain keeps her from screaming out. It knows something she doesn’t. An instinct that she can’t recall. 

Gritting her teeth, she forces herself up. Her whole body protests the actions. Muscles ache and her joints pop, and another ragged breath passes her lips. She forces her half-lidded eyes to completely open and she takes in her surroundings. It’s dark and damp- she’s in a place that she doesn’t know. She’s tucked against a stone wall, the rock damp from a leak in the rock above them. She sees light in the distance, the first rays of dawn peeking through the trees and shining into this place of darkness. 

She forces herself up to her knees, a whimper passing her lips because of the pain and the lower half of her leg seizes up in agony. Then, she attempts to stand up, bearing all her weight on her right leg and she finds herself collapsing and her scream echoes off the cave walls and into the outside world beyond the darkness she has been born to. 

Her hands fly to her mouth, muffling the sound. Everything in her says to  _ shut up,  _ and she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know why she’s scared. She only knows that she doesn’t know anything or where she is. 

Rolling to her back, she eases herself back up so her legs are settled out before her. Something cold brushes her hand and she instinctively grasps it, cool metal settling into her clammy hand. She squints her eyes just enough to make out a button and she clicks it, light filling the cave. 

She wishes she hadn’t clicked that button. 

Blood is smeared across one of the walls; body matter is congealed to the stone. Then, below it, lies a body. The man is lying on his back, slumped unnaturally on the ground. Cold, undead eyes stare up at the roof of the cave and his mouth is agape with rotting flesh stuck between his teeth. There’s a knife stuck in his skull, just between his eyes. Next to him is the skeletal figure of a child, half eaten with his insides exposed and his face chewed away. 

Her body heaves backwards, a scream caught on her lips.  _ She has to leave _ . 

Scrambling up, she leaves the cave in a mad dash of thrashing arms and her one good leg. She collapses when she reaches the mouth of the cave and she feels her stomach heave due to the bodies she had seen. Vomit pools into the grass below her, acrid bile burning her throat and nose and all she can do is cry between violent gags. 

Finally, she stops retching and she catches her breath. She rolls away from the mess next to her, body shaking and she wipes at her mouth with her sleeve. 

_ What were those things,  _ she thinks, her mind racing. It tries to put together answers, but nothing is there. All she can grasp is that she knows  _ nothing _ . Her head is an empty shell, all the memories and feelings that made a person  _ gone _ . There are no memories of happiness and wonder. She just knows pain and misery the few seconds she can recall actually being alive. 

Finally, she stops gasping and her breathing evens out. She focuses her eyes around her, taking in this new world. It has gotten brighter, and she can see the large expanse of trees around her and it stretches out as far as she can see in the dim morning light. It is oddly serene, and she silently thinks of the irony of it all. She woke up in a freaking  _ cave  _ with dead people being the first thing she ever saw, and now there is somehow something beautiful beyond all that fear and ugliness. 

Sniffling, she rubs at her eyes and and releases a haggard breath. She casts her eyes down at her legs, her pants dirty and tattered. Blood soaks them and she can see that her left leg is more or less mangled, something sharp jutting from her skin. 

She does not know whether it is from the pain or fear, but her body shakes and shakes. 

Then, she looks back out into the woods and dread falls on her. There’s something bad out there and her mind knows, but she doesn’t. Everything in her screams to get back in that cave, to not be seen. There is something deadly out there, she just doesn’t know it. 

She skittishly looks back into the cave, afraid to go back to where the bodies are. She takes a hulking breath, then begins to scoot back into the cave where there is darkness save for the flashlight shining in the back. She hurries passed the bodies, looking away from the half-eaten face of the little boy. 

She gratefully sits against the cave’s far wall, clutching at the flashlight. She doesn’t shine it in the direction of the bodies, but she does take a moment to look around the cave. It’s narrow but deep, so she thinks she would be hidden enough in case something bad came her way. The walls around her are damp and gratefully cool. Then, beneath her is a wet, muddy floor. She chooses to ignore it, looking around the floor for anything else missing and she spots a large camping bag tucked in the far corner. Curiosity stirs in her, swelling in her chest and she begins a slow crawl towards it, grabbing at the rough canvas bag and yanks it to her. 

With her brows furrowed, she opens the bag and she begins sorting through the bag’s contents: two empty water bottles, an empty sleeve of crackers, four cans of green beans, and a dented can of peaches. Then, she begins to go through the pockets and zippers, finding knives and bullets and other little things. Then, she pulls out a flask and she opens it, but she scrunches her nose when she smells the strong scent of alcohol. 

The last pocket snaps open and she pulls out the few contents. She pulls out four small pill bottles and an L-shaped device with the word inhaler on the metal canister. Each label, she sees, reads  _ Alma Grace.  _

Something clicks inside her head. Familiarity warms her chest and comforts her.  _ Alma.  _ She releases a trembling breath and nods.  _ Okay; I’m Alma.  _ She’s finally someone, not just an empty shell of a girl. She’s  _ Alma.  _

The girl, now Alma, settles against the wall and with trembling hands she opens the can of peaches. Alma lifts the can to her mouth, not caring to find a spoon or anything to eat with. She sips at the syrup the fruit is in and fishes out one of the peaches with her fingers, eating the sweet fruit. It settles in her stomach like a rock, but she’s starving. She struggles to pace herself, but she eats most of the can within minutes and drains the syrup from the peaches out of thirst. 

Alma sets the peaches aside, settling against the cold cave wall. Her stomach is full, but it’s unsettled and she’s a little uncomfortable. Then, exhaustion takes over and Alma feels herself slipping. Despite having just woken up, she’s lured down into sleep where her body goes slack on its own accord and soon, she’s breathing long, deep breaths. Then, sleep takes her over and she slumps down, her body awkwardly settled against the wall. 

_ Her last thought before she drifts is that she prays she doesn’t wake up.  _

…

_ When she becomes conscious, her senses are dull.  _

Alma’s eyes snap open, taking in the hazy world around her. Her head pounds with an unbearable ache and her leg hurts. It’s enough to make her stomach churn and she feels sick. She can feel the cool earth beneath her clammy hands and she shivers a little. She can hear all sorts of noises in the background- chirping birds and croaking frogs and whirring bugs. 

She hears voices. 

A hand taps her face, calling her to. Alma frowns, focusing on the whispering voices calling to her.  _ She just wants to be left alone _ . She wants to sleep. To die. She doesn’t want to deal with the loneliness and the pain. 

“Kid?  _ Hey, kid; you gotta wake up.  _ C’mon. Talk to me, huh?”

Alma releases a shuddering breath, blinking a couple of times to steady her vision. Above her is a man with dark hair and blue eyes. He’s dressed in an officer’s uniform, she sees. He looks at her worriedly, hand cradling her cold face as she finally begins to understand his words. 

He gives Alma a soft look. “Hey, sweetheart. You with me?”

She blinks again, that takes a shuddering breath. “ _ W-W-Who’re y-you?”  _ Her words are clipped and raspy. Alma doesn’t even recognize her own voice outside of her screaming and crying.  _ “Wha-What is goin’ o-o-on?” _

“My name is Rick. We saw your flashlight shining from outside…decided to come check it out,” Rick answers, giving Alma a careful smile. “What about you, kid? What’s your name?”

Alma shivers. “Alma.”

“Well,  _ Alma;  _ can you tell me how you got here? Can ya tell me how ya got hurt?”

Alma frowns at that.  _ How did she get here?  _ She just knows that she woke up here on her own with those two bodies. Everything that happened to her before now is long forgotten. “I-I-I don’t know. I woke up here. I can’t remember anything else.”

Rick gives her a concerned look. “You got a nasty looking bump on your head. Looks like you had a real bad fall or somethin’. Does anything else hurt, Alma?”

“My leg,” Alma groans miserably. Then, she looks up at Rick with terrified eyes, her mind a haze of confusion and exhaustion. “A-Are you gonna leave me here? Please, don’t. I feel like I’m dyin’. I don’t wanna die.”

“You ain’t dyin’, sweetheart. You’re hurt- pretty bad, too. I’m gonna get ya outta here,” Rick assures. “I have a group ‘bout ten miles out. You trust me to get ya there?”

Alma makes a sound. “Ain’t gotta choice, do I?”

Rick chuckles humorlessly. “No; no, ya don’t. I’m gonna lift ya, alright? You hang on tight as ya can. We got a little ways before getting back to camp.”

Then, the man has her scooped up in his arms. An arm wraps around her waist and another supports her legs. Alma grits her teeth at the pain in her left leg, but clings to Rick as he walks with her to the mouth of the cave. Sunlight overwhelms her and she hides her face in the crook of Rick’s neck, holding the man tightly. 

“I was wondering what was holding you up. Is it alive?” Alma hears a heavily accented southern voice. She frowns at being called “It,” but is too exhausted to protest. 

Rick snorts inelegantly. “She’s very much alive. Says her name is Alma and she doesn’t remember much. She can’t remember how she got in the cave and can’t remember how she got hurt.”

“She’s got one hell of a bump,” says the other man. Alma feels a hand on her head, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Alma flinches away, body trembling. “Calm down, kid. Lem’me see that bump. She’s got one ugly gash, too. Looks infected. Hershel is gonna have a cow over ‘em antibiotics. We go through them like freakin’ candy.”

“We shouldn’t need much for her. We’ll get her back and have Hershel look,” Rick says. “Take Alma ‘til I can get on the horse. Hand her up to me.”

Then, she’s passed over to the other man. He easily settles her in his arms and cradles her to him. “Easy, squirt. I’ve gotcha’, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” Alma slurs tiredly, much too exhausted to try to fight him. 

Not much longer than a second later, she feels herself being lifted up. “You got ‘er? If you drop the kid you might actually kill ‘er.”

Rick easily settles her against him, her body wedged between him and the horses saddle. “I’ve got her. I’m gonna get back quick...see what Hershel can do.”

There’s a tense moment of silence and the other man makes a noise. “Carol is gonna be heartbroken.”

Alma frowns.  _ Carol?  _ She wonders what has happened to the woman to be so sad. Would her arrival at this man’s camp send things in a downwards spiral? “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll find Sophia, but we gotta save this girl while we can.”

“Well you take care of her. I’ll be back before dark.” 

With that, they’re gone. She’s held almost too tightly against Rick’s chest as he rushes back to his group, her already dark mind troubled. She opens her eyes, the action sapping almost every last bit of her energy and she frowns up at Rick. “Why will that woman be sad? Who’s Sophia?”

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t help it, okay?”

Alma frowns deeply. Then, she comes to a small realization. “I’m not who you was looking for, huh?”

Rick makes a sound. “We just lost someone from our group. We’re still lookin’ and the search ain’t gave us much hint to anything… But we found you, though. That ain’t ever a bad thing.”

“How come I think yer’ lyin’?” Alma mumbles, exhaustion pulling her in with its strong tides. She can’t hold her eyes open much longer and she slumps heavily against Rick, her body too tired to support itself. 

“I guess you’ll just have to believe me, then.”

Alma sighs heavily. “Is it okay if I sleep?”

“Yeah. You rest some, sweetheart. I’ll see you when you wake back up, okay?” Rick soothes. It seems to be enough for Alma because she finds herself sinking further and further into sleep, darkness soon taking her over completely. 

…

_ Alma catches snippets of conversation.  _

They are never long and she is always pulled back under the influence of darkness or something much heavier. Some of them are hushed whispers and the others are violent screams that make her shudder. The entire time, though, there is a comforting presence next to her and she was always back asleep as quickly as she woke up. 

She is not sure how long she is suspended there in that dim transition between sleeping and waking. It feels like she is there an eternity before she finally begins to regain consciousness. She feels lighter than she ever has before, even though her body is exhausted and she is in pain. Her eyes flutter open and instead of the stone grey of the cave overhead, Alma sees a white ceiling. She’s warm and dry, encased in quilts and linens with her head propped up on pillows and her left leg is cushioned on one, too. 

Alma takes a shaky breath in, only to be welcomed by a wheeze and a series of coughs. Her throat is scratchy and dry, her body trembling all over. She rolls to her side, pushing herself up with her arm in an effort to sit up and find water, but she’s pushed back down carefully with two gentle hands on her shoulders. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Settle down. Lay back down.” The voice is that of a woman’s, soft and gentle. There’s a slight tremble in her voice, and Alma’s eyes finally settle on her. She has short, grey hair with blonde undertones and blue-grey eyes. She seems gentle and sweet, but Alma’s body just can’t seem to relax.

Alma frowns. “ _ W-Water. Please.”  _ Her voice is little more than a rasp, the sound rough and scratchy. 

The woman reaches over to the nightstand, drawing over a glass of water with a straw placed in it. She keeps hold of the glass while Alma grasps the straw between her lips and she drinks in a long drag of water. The water is cool against her raw throat, soothing and it chases the itch away. The coughing subsides, and Alma releases the straw when she feels she has had enough. 

“Are you okay?”

Alma nods quickly. “Yes. Yes; thank you.” She slumps back against the pillow, looking up at the woman with tired eyes. Her fingers move through her hair and Alma sinks further into the bed, sighing shakily. “My leg hurts.”

The woman frowns deeply. “I know. Hershel gave you some pain medication a while ago. We wish we could give you something stronger.”

Alma raises her head up a little, peeking down at her leg. She tries to wiggle her toes, but she feels numb.  _ Something’s missing.  _ She reaches out with a trembling hand, but the grey haired woman keeps her from pulling the blanket back. “Don’t look at it. Just rest.”

“H-He fixed it, r-right? Didn’t he?” Alma gives the woman a terrified look, tears welling up in her eyes.  _ Why can’t she feel her leg?  _

“He fixed it best he could,” she assures. “When Rick got you here, your leg was pretty bad infected and there wasn’t much Hershel could do to fix your bones. He had to take part of your leg to keep you from dying.”

Alma blanches at that, leaning up and she pulls the blanket away from her leg despite the woman’s reluctance. Propped up on a pillow is what is left of her leg. It looks like it was cut off just below her knee, and bandages are wrapped around the stump that’s left. 

Alma releases a choking sob. “O-Oh...my G-G-God. M-My leg...oh, m-m-my God.” Her vision begins to blur, spots appearing before them. Her head begins to feel light and her stomach churns. Her chest heaves for a breath, and the next thing she knows she is being pushed down onto the bed and the woman is calling for someone. 

The last thing she fully remembers is something sharp being pushed into the crook of her arm. 

_ Then, there’s darkness.  _

…

_ Someone is watching her.  _

Alma wakes up with a bit more clarity than before. While everything is clear, she feels heavy. She assumes it is the pull of the drugs from earlier making her feel this way, but soon she wears out of her drugged stupor and she raises her head up to look around the room. 

Because of the quietness, she almost believes that there is not anyone there. It’s only when she hears a hitching breath that she looks over to the doorway to see a boy watching her. He’s short with dark hair and crystal eyes, an officer’s hat perched on his head. His torso is bare, save for the bandaged wound around his swollen stomach. He’s only clad in a pair of pajama pants and socks, looking more like a surly teenager rather than a small child. 

“Are you watchin’ me?”

Terror falls over the boy’s face. “Shh! Mom and Dad told me not to be here...or out of bed.”

Alma frowns a little. “Then why are you here?” She sits up a little, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Y-You can come in. Um...I’m Alma, I guess.”

“I’m Carl. I...you shouldn’t be sitting up. Herschel says you’re still really sick,” Carl deadpans, narrowing his eyes a little. Then, he pads into the room and perches himself on the armchair beside the bed. “When you came, you were really bad. Dad thought you would die.”

Alma squeezes her eyes closed. Then, she looks to Carl once she pulls her thoughts together. “Your dad is Rick?”

Carl grins. “Yeah. He said he didn’t want to leave you. He thinks you might be my age. How old are you, anyways?”

Alma shrugs. “I-I don’t know. I can’t remember anything. I just remember wakin’ up and I knew my name. That’s all I know.” 

“So you got amnesia? It’s kind of cool that you forgot everything. It sounds like something real bad happened to you,” Carl comments sadly, carefully swinging his legs back and forth from his place on the chair. Then, his eyes cut to Alma’s leg and he winces. “H-How is your leg? They wouldn’t tell me what happened to it.”

“The woman told me they had to cut it off.” Alma gulps and pulls her blanket back, looking at what remains of her leg. She pulls back part of her nightgown and she’s met with bandages wrapped around the stump left behind. 

Carl nearly looks green. Then, he tries to smile for Alma. “It’s kind of cool, though. You look like a pirate.”

Alma scowls. “It ain’t cool to run around with a stub.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I was shot,” Carl offers. Alma glances at the bandages wrapping his abdomen up and she grimaces. “I don’t remember a lot of it. I-I remember the deer and stuff, but not anything else really.”

Alma frowns a little. “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“Still,” Alma shrugs. She sighs heavily and rubs at her eyes, still exhausted. She could go back to sleep, but her stomach is rumbling from not eating much at all. 

Carl smiles a little. “Do you want me to get Dad? He can talk to Herschel for you and get you something to eat.”

Alma opens her mouth to speak, but just as those words leave Carl’s mouth, Rick himself walks into the room. His gaze falls on Carl and he lifts an eyebrow at the boy. “What are you gonna have Dad do?”

Carl jumps, his blue eyes wide. “Dad! I was just talking to her. She’s hungry and I was gonna find you, so you could get Hershel or someone and…”

“The gesture is nice, son. We told you not to be out of bed, though. You need rest- both of you,” Rick says, narrowing his eyes at both Alma and Carl even though a smile plays on his lips. “Would you like something to eat, Alma? I’d say you are given you’ve been out for a while.”

Alma nods. “Please.”

“I’ll be back. Hershel will want to see ya since you’re up.” Then, his gaze falls on Carl and he gives him a look. “You should go and lay down. Hershel doesn’t want you up and runnin’ around.”

Carl frowns. “I’m just sitting here! I promise I won’t move too much.”

Alma nods, offering Rick a lopsided smile. “He’s fine. I want ‘em to stay. If I can’t move, he ain’t gonna move.”

Rick chuckles softly. “Fine. I’ll be back with Herschel. You two sit tight a few minutes until we get back.”

Alma snorts inelegantly and Carl holds back a crooked smile. “Yeah. Like I’m gonna be goin’ anywhere with one leg.” It causes her to laugh a little and she hears Carl snicker. Rick just rolls his eyes before leaving the room, going to collect the doctor and something for Alma to eat. 

Alma looks to Carl. “I like your dad.”

Carl grins. “He’s pretty awesome.”

Alma chuckles and her mind drifts to her own father. She doesn’t remember the man, but the body of the dead person in the cave held some familiarity to it. A chill races down her spine at the thought. Had her father died and become a monster? 

She’s lost in her thoughts, thinking of the things she has lost. She woke up alone, with no apparent family. The only thing she had with her when she woke up was dead bodies. Alma knows that she has to have had someone with her. She had someone to take care of her. According to Carl, she was his age or younger. 

How could a child survive alone? 

_ Perhaps she didn’t have anyone at all.  _


End file.
